Milking, humiliation

A young man hunts for his missing father and older brother, but he ends up being miked.

Patrons can access downloadable PDFs of most stories, 4K versions of many images, and content that I choose not to publish publicly here
Please consider donating to my Patreon in order to receive access. Click here to find out more

Missing Another tale from the Farm – Part 2

“D… daad? Thomas?” Oliver said incredulously.

Oliver looked at his naked father and brother. They were not working at the farm; they were semen donors!

His father ignored him, lost in his own world of lust. Oliver saw that his dad’s dick was shorter than he might have expected; just five inches; the same length as his own, but fat, thick in the middle, tapering to a surprisingly small glans. His father’s testicles looked three times as large as his own.

The man’s inner thighs vibrated in time with the current passing through his balls. A thick spurt of cum, followed by two more, then a long, slow dribble falling into the cylinder, hanging from the end of his cock. The semen was up to the marker that denoted 4 centimetres of thick man-cream. His head drooped as though it was too much effort to hold up.

Thomas turned slowly towards his brother.

“Oli, what are you doing here?”

He spoke sluggishly as though his words were wrapped in syrup.

“You shouldn’t be here. Go home.”

Oliver stared at him in disbelief. Thomas’s cock was three inches longer than his father’s; not as deformed, but thick, with a powerful-looking plum-coloured glans. His testicles were not as large as his father’s. Semen hung from his helmet as though he had also cum just seconds ago, and the last residue was unwilling to let go of his urethra.

“Oh, it’s way too late for that I’m afraid,” Stephen interjected. “Your brother is going to be joining you. Family groups are greatly prized by our clientele.”

Oliver snapped his head around to look at his guide, Stephen, and he took a couple of backward steps away from him, only to bump into the other man who’d be trailing them all along. The impact was like hitting a wall of muscle.

“Now, let’s not have any silliness please Oliver. My colleague is holding a taser. You wouldn’t get 5 feet before he zaps you with it. It’s one of the higher voltage models – quite painful as I understand it. Guaranteed to make you shit yourself. I doubt you’ve crapped your pants since you were a baby, and we’d rather not have to deal with the clean-up.”

“Wh… wh… what do you want?” Oliver stammered.

“I’ve already told you what I want. You’re going to be joining your brother and father. You’ll be semen donor 462 I believe. Your father has been quite productive, and your brother’s capacity is growing. You’ll make a valuable addition to the farm.”

“I’m not… I won’t…”

Oliver was very aware of his genitals scrunched up within his boxers. His testicles felt as though they were tingling.

“You are and you will,” Stephen said. “Now if you’d like to get undressed, we can get you hooked up.”

He looked to one of the many nearby workers busying themselves.

“Martyn, would you come and get this young man hooked up please.”

“No problem,” the man said.

With Martyn approaching, Oliver felt as though he was trapped between the trio of men. He clenched his fists.

“I can assure you, the taser really is quite agonising, and you’ll feel the after effects for several days,” Stephen said. “And if you make things difficult now, I’ll tell Martyn to set your milking to one orgasm every minute for the next three months. I can assure you, even the horniest kid loses all fight after just a couple of hours of that. Now get undressed please.”

Oliver looked horrified, but he felt positive that Stephen had both the means and the willingness to carry out his threats.

He undressed reluctantly, until he stood in nothing but his boxers, holding his folded clothes in front of his body like a shield.

“You can drop your clothes. You won’t be needing them again,” Stephen said.

The words cut straight to Oliver’s heart. This was serious. This was where his dad and brother had disappeared to. All that time the family wondered if he was with another woman, but instead he was here getting his balls drained; milked like a cow. And now HE was going to get his balls drained too.

“Boxers too,” Martyn said.

“They always stop at the boxers,” Hannah said, grinning. “What do they think is going to happen?”

Oliver slowly dropped his boxers, immediately covering his privates with his free hand.

Hannah said, “Kid, you’re gonna be bare-ass naked in three seconds. What’s the point?”

Oliver glowered at her with undisguised hatred, but left his hand covering his groin.

Martyn spoke.

“Come over here and lay on the bench.”

He gestured to the vacant station between Thomas and Jason. Oliver looked at the man, fighting back his instinctive desire to flee, then with obvious reluctance, he moved to the place where he had been instructed, and dropped to his stomach on the bench, finally leaving his genitals to swing free.

Martyn lowered a metal arm made of heavy-duty galvanised steel scaffold tube. On the end, of the arm was a large, articulated rubberised claw. Martyn wrapped the claw around Oliver’s torso, closing it tightly enough so that Oliver could not squirm free. He locked it in place, then cuffed Oliver’s arms to his sides.

To his surprise, Oliver felt himself being lifted. He felt a moment of vertiginous panic, but the movement stopped when he was just two feet further above the ground. The claw rotated, turning Oliver’s body until he was in a near-standing position, with his legs dangling, then the entire assembly lowered, forcing him into a low crouch in front of the bench, roughly in line with his brother and father’s heads. The lower he got, the more he had to move his feet and knees apart to avoid getting his legs scrunched up painfully beneath him. When the arm stopped moving, he was left crouching like some kind of squat troll, knees apart, displaying its genitals to the females opposite as though he was proud of them.

This was not the position he expected to be placed in, but he masked his sense of confusion behind a glowering stare.

Hannah stared at his genitals unabashedly. He had a pale pink cock, just 7 centimetres long, and as thick as a movie theatre hot dog wiener. It was circumcised, but not severely so, leaving a wrinkled ringlet of skin encroaching upon the rear of the glans corona.

Despite Oliver’s mortal fear, beneath his penis, his balls, average for his age, hung in an equally pink, soft and loose scrotum. Above, there was a sparse-but-unruly, tomato-sized patch of wiry, light brown hair.

Hannah looked to Oliver’s face and grinned. She said nothing, but Oliver blushed beneath her unflinching scrutiny. With his arms secured to his sides, he could do nothing to shield himself, and her amused silence was almost worse than ridicule.

Martyn placed a metal bucket beneath the young man’s rear. Oliver looked at it without comprehension.

The worker produced a bottle from a bag over his shoulder and poured thick near-transparent liquid into a small plastic medical beaker.

“Drink this,” he ordered Oliver.

“What is it?”

“Just drink it!”

Oliver again complied. The liquid was oily and tasted of aniseed.

“Good,” Stephen said. “Martyn if you can take care of the rest of the prep tomorrow please.”

“No problem.”

Hannah gave one more pronounced stare at Oliver’s genitals, followed by a sneer and a wink. Then the trio walked away, and Martyn moved off to continue busying himself with the other donors.

When they had left, Thomas answered Oliver’s question, his speech less slurred now.

“That was laxative. You’ll shit your guts out. No point holding back. It will only give you stomach cramps and you’ll still end up dropping your guts.”

“Why would they give me that?”

“Clean you out I guess,” Thomas responded matter-of-factly.

Oliver turned to his brother. Thomas looked across at him.

“Thomas, how long have you been here?”

“Since the first day I didn’t get home. That bitch Hannah tricked me.”

“Me too.”

Thomas grimaced but Oliver got the feeling it wasn’t the memory, or pain that motivated his expression.

“Thomas?”

“Horny. Always so fucking…”

He paused mid-sentence, and started moaning, “Nggguh, uhhhh, uhhh.”

Although his pelvis was raised, and his knees were spread, he started thrusting as though he was fucking a woman beneath him. A scene from a porno flashed into Oliver’s brain; a standing woman touching her toes, and a guy behind, fucking her hard from behind.

Then Oliver noticed the whole place was grinding and moaning. Voices harmonising; some high, some gravelly like his brother’s, and every pitch in between. Most of the males were air humping, and there was absolutely no doubt in Oliver’s mind that they were experiencing a collective orgasm of epic proportions.

In the row opposite, the females were watching the males experience a mass orgasm, and the sight was clearly having an effect on them. Like horny women in bad porn, they started chewing their lips, and making lustful faces. It was not deliberate or conscious. Unlike the males, they were not programmed to experience regular orgasms, but the sight of all those males experiencing vigorous orgasms, coupled with their own constant stimulation, was enough to raise their arousal levels to fever pitch as well.

Oliver noticed that many of the females were looking directly at the groins of the orgasming males, and to his concern, he realised that three of them were looking with great interest, directly between his own spread knees. He felt exposed, and tried to draw his knees together, but it was too difficult in such a low crouching position.

He looked at his father, and he could see that the man was firing his jizz into the cylinder in one explosive spurt after another. His brother was doing the same, and both were utterly preoccupied by the power of their own orgasms.

Some of the males looked straight back at the naked females, using the sight of them to increase their own stimulation, but most were totally lost to the all-consuming sensation of their orgasms.

The grinding, and humping, and moaning began to diminish one minute after it began, although lots of males took another 15 seconds to come to a halt, and the exhausted moaning continued long beyond.

The atmosphere in the giant barn was intoxicating. The scent of male sex sweat, semen, and female lubrication formed a heady odour that was both unpleasant to Oliver, yet arousing. He noticed that many of the male workers were also adjusting erections within their own overalls as they continued to labour.

Thomas knelt, gasping as he regained his senses. Finally, he was able to communicate again.

“Fuck!”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, they never get easier.”

“Are they painful?”

“Nah, not at all, but it’s exhausting getting your brain scrambled every five minutes.”

“Every five minutes?!”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t you fight against it?”

“No chance. The electric in your balls and the helmet wanker keeps you constantly horny, then the dildo zaps you. You blow your load instantly.”

“Is there no way to escape?”

“Bro, I don’t know,” Thomas sighed. “Me and dad have been trying since we got here, but apparently William got here more than 40 years ago and he’s still here…”

Oliver felt like a bug on a dissection table. He tried to turn but two of the claw arms passed over his shoulders, holding him like the safety bars of a dune buggy. After a minute of struggling, he realised that he was not going to be able to escape as long as the hard rubber claws wrapped around him.

All too soon, he realised that he was not escaping unless someone released him.

“No joy huh?” his brother said.

“No, I can hardly move.”

Oliver looked at his brother’s erect penis. It was surrounded just where the corona curved to meet the shaft, by a soft centimetre-high latex ring. His penis pointed vertically down towards the glass collection cylinder which had a tapered end capable of catching semen across 15-centimetre-wide circular area. His shaft was held in place by a smaller claw, coated with latex. His brother’s dick looked brutally hard, brown, with a bloated deep purple plum head, and a tracery of veins all over its surface.

“Doesn’t it hurt being that hard?” Oliver asked.

“It did ache at first, for a few weeks, then you get used to it.”

Oliver had seen Thomas’s dick on numerous occasions, but never like this. 8 inches long. It looked like a deadly weapon.

“Dude, your dick looks like a baseball bat.”

“It’s not that big Oli!”

Oliver scrutinised his brother’s nuts. Like every male in the place, they were smooth.

“They shaved your balls?”

“Yeah. They sprayed this stuff on. The hair just came off. I guess it hasn’t grown back since they only did it once. They still bald?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Oliver looked at his own pink balls in their soft scrotum. Chronologically he was past the end of puberty, but they would not require the spray.

He continued studying his brother. Electric wires were taped to his nuts using two circular pads that looked like they were made of adhesive plasters.

“What are those wires stuck to your sack for?”

“Electrodes I think. I can feel an electric current in my nuts.”

“What does it feel like?”

“A REALLY amazing tingling. Like a vibration but deep inside. It makes them insanely horny. Like ALL THE TIME horny. Hornier than I ever felt before. But I think it does something to them too. Makes you able to cum more.”

“Seriously?  Oh man.”

To his horror, despite the dire situation, Oliver felt a stirring of interest in cock as the blood flow increased. It lifted its head, rising to a curved half-erection. He could feel it but he didn’t dare to look and draw attention to it. He noticed the female diagonally across from him grinning as she looked at him. She looked about 18. She had a goth look to her. Natural black hair.

As humiliating as her own situation was, she still found humour in his lack of control. He looked at her and their eyes met, his wide and embarrassed and hers sparkling with amusement.

“It’ll get a lot worse,” she said. “Your body isn’t under your control anymore.”

Flustered, he was still only too well aware of his treacherous penis. He blushed and looked hurriedly away, turning to his dad.

His father’s eyes were almost fully closed, and his head hung down.

“Dad,” Oliver said. “DAD!”

His father didn’t stir.

“DAAAD!” he called even louder.

“He’s out of it,” Thomas said. “He only comes around after they turn the milkers off at night.”

“So, they do turn them off sometimes?”

“Yeah, every night. And you get to piss and shit each morning. Force yourself to go even if you’re not in the mood. It’s a long day if you need to go.”

“What’s wrong with dad?”

“He’s on a boner trip. Lots of guys do. They get too horny and just zone out. Dad’s gone most of the time. I kind of envy him really.”

“Will I go like that?”

“I don’t know. Depends how you cope with being insanely horny all the time I guess.”

Oliver tried unsuccessfully to ignore his own dick, still standing at half-mast.

Two hours and twelve orgasms for everyone else later, Oliver got the first signs that the laxative was working. He felt a bubbling sensation in his bowels, followed soon after by an overwhelming need to void his bowels. The feeling grew and grew, and he knew for absolute certain that when he finally released it, it was going to be a sloppy one.

“Tom, I gotta take a dump. I gotta go bad.”

“Then go,” his brother responded. “No point holding it in. Everyone here had to go through it. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

In spite of the advice to go sooner rather than later, Oliver’s natural reluctance to defecate in full view of dozens of people, especially if it was going to be diarrhoea, enabled him to hold on for another 15 minutes, but the rumbling in his stomach became audible.

“Just do it,” Thomas said. “The longer you leave it, the more it’s gonna explode out of you. It’s gonna be messy, I’m telling you bro.”

That was the warning that did it. The last thing Oliver wanted was for his dump to be any louder. Maybe he could let it go gently and quietly, easing his bowels so that his shit fell softly into the bucket.

He released his stomach tension, feeling the chunky liquid squeezing past his sphincter, and then it was as though the bottom fell out of his asshole, and the contents of his bowels were jet propelled from him. There were a series of loud, gassy sputters, and a day and half of mostly digested food evacuated his body like an inverted volcano of shit.

Oliver frantically tried to restrain it, but once he’d started, his body was not stopping until his bowels were empty. He couldn’t face the females opposite or even his brother. He looked up at the ceiling, as though he could somehow disavow what was happening to his body. The stench was rancid, and the constant sputtering noises guaranteed that nobody within a 30-foot earshot was in any doubt about what was occurring.

Mid-dump, the orgasm cycle started, and all around him, males started groaning and air humping, and Oliver was grateful for the distraction. They finished before he did, leaving him to add a final half dozen high pressure lumpy farts to their post orgasmic moaning. Then, thankfully it was over.

He lowered his eyes, and the teen girl opposite gave him a “Whaddaya gonna do?” shrug. He blushed and remained squatting as the evil stench rose from the bucket, spreading away from him like toxic fog.

To Oliver’s immense gratitude, just a few minutes later, one of the workers, attracted by the smell, came by and took the bucket away, replacing it with another one. By lights out two hours later, he’d emptied his bowels two more times, after which, he knew that he had no more in him.

He spent an uncomfortable night squatting down, changing his position often, straightening one leg, then the other, like a Cossack dancer to avoid leg cramps. He didn’t really sleep, although it appeared to him that most of the other captives did so.

He was already awake at 7am when Martyn arrived to prepare him. The first thing Martyn did was drop to a knee and examine Oliver’s scrotum.

Oliver had never even considered the amount of hair on his bag, but now that the stablehand was examining him like a piece of livestock, he became acutely aware of it. Martyn lifted his nuts, turning them over in his hand as if he was a shopper examining vegetables in a grocery store.

“Smooth as a baby’s nut sack,” Martyn pronounced cheerfully, as though the comparison was supposed to make Oliver feel good. It didn’t. It was a humiliating comparison, and Oliver blushed brightly. The girl diagonally opposite was watching, and he could see her grinning face over Martyn’s shoulder. He looked away.

“It saves us having to strip the hair off them,” Martyn explained.

“Not that I have any choice what you do to me,” Oliver thought.

But having hair stripped from his sack sounded unpleasant, so he was relieved to avoid that.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up,” Martyn said.

Oliver felt himself being lifted into the air, then the claw rotated by 90 degrees, this time onto his back. He closed his legs, pulling his knees tightly together, and lifted up his head to see what was going on.

Martyn picked up a hose.

“Open your legs.”

Oliver did the opposite, curling into ball. Martyn sprayed a high-pressure jet of water at Oliver’s nuts, protruding between his thighs. It hit hard enough to be uncomfortable.

“Open your legs or the next one will ten times harder.”

Olive immediately complied, spreading his knees. He looked like a bug that had toppled onto its back.

Martyn reduced the water pressure and changed the hose to a wide jet, then sprayed Oliver’s nuts and groin. He felt like a little baby at bathtime. Martyn switched to concentrate on Oliver’s asshole. Oliver felt the cold water on his ring, then he felt it entering him. He felt like a balloon being inflated. After a minute, he stopped spraying and returned Oliver to his former position over the bucket.

“Shit that water out.”

Oliver didn’t need much prompting, and the dirty hose water sprayed from him like a faucet jet.

Martyn watched in silence, until Oliver stopped.

“All done? Get it all out.”

Oliver squeezed, and managed a few more murky jets. He gave Martyn a terse, humourless nod to indicate that he was done.

“You’ll find life is a lot easier here if you just do what you’re told,” Martyn said.

He adjusted the claw controls, lifting Oliver again, this time tilting him forwards before lowering him to his chest on the bench in the same position as all the other semen donors.

Martyn wrapped cuffs around each of Oliver’s wrists, securing them to the legs of the bench. Then the man attached two more around Oliver’s legs, just above the knees. Oliver felt his legs being lifted and spread, his unimpressive cock flopping in between. He struggled instinctively, but the claw held his upper body against the bench. He grunted as his legs were raised and locked into position. Oliver felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable, unable to draw his knees together, with his genitals dangling unprotected. As his legs settled unwillingly into position, Oliver initially held them straight at the knees, but the strain of doing so quickly became tiring, and he allowed them to bend at the knees, until he had involuntarily adopted the same swimming-frog leg position as everyone else in the room, with his heels naturally coming to a rest just a foot apart.

He knew what was coming, and he anticipated it with a deep sense of dread.

“Cold water has shrivelled your nut sack,” Martyn said, running his finger tips along the deep grooves that has appeared along Oliver’s pale scrotum.

“Your balls have disappeared inside you. Not to worry, they’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Martyn briskly rubbed his palm against the tight bag as though he was trying to massage life back into it after being out in the cold. Oliver’s shrunken pee pee bounced with the massage.

Martyn stopped, and Oliver felt his ass cheeks being spread by the man’s thumb and index finger. The tip of a lubricated electro-ejaculator touched his ring. Martyn pushed it Oliver’s hole, Oliver tensed against it, but it easily breached his defences, sliding inside. A comical expression of shock appeared on the youngster’s face as it reached his prostate.

Martyn gripped Oliver’s dangling penis between two hands and briskly rubbed it between them to warm it and make it relax. When the frightened meat had softened, he gripped it in his palm, with the head pointing towards his wrist. He loosely wrapped his hand around the flaccid flesh and started to massage it, moving his hand slowly down it, before releasing, gripping again near the root, and repeating.

Oliver was shocked. He knew that he was going to be milked like a cow, but he never expected to be jacked off in front of everybody by a young guy first. But worse still, his cock slowly hardened in Martyn’s palm as the worker patiently pulled on it.

The girl opposite watched with great interest, as Martyn masturbated Oliver’s cock, slowly massaging it hard. Oliver looked back at her, determined not to feel shame for things beyond his control. Or at least, that was the attitude he hoped to project, as he felt his cock turning rigid in the man’s hand. But his blush betrayed his true emotions.

Martyn said, “Didn’t take long to get you hard,” and Oliver’s blush ramped up from rosy to crimson. The girl grinned, but not unkindly.

Behind, Martyn wrapped a clamp around Oliver’s teen log, aiming it straight downwards.

“You’ll stay hard with that dildo in your asshole,” the man said, as though imparting good news.

“Oh. Great,” Oliver sarcastically responded in flat tone.

He could feel it tingling inside him.

Martyn tugged lightly on his nuts.

“That’s better,” he said to nobody in particular.

He pressed an electrical contact pad to Oliver’s scrotum where each testicle now lay. They stuck firmly, chemically bonding with the skin. Inside the pads, flat pieces of foil carried a current that was regulated at a central control centre.

Oliver felt the man sliding a highly lubricated latex band over his hard glans. The inside was lined with small dimples that massaged him as they brushed over the skin, coming to rest over the rear of the coronal flare. The very delicate skin just behind, which had formerly been protected by what was left of the foreskin, had with a high density of nerves close to the surface. It was easily the most sensitive part of his penis, and feeling the latex band touch him there sent a shiver throughout Oliver’s groin.

Martyn placed a glass collection cylinder beneath the head of the young man’s clamped cock. The cylinder was a foot tall, and stood on a powered base. The base kept the contents of the cylinder chilled. Its upper opening was funnel shaped, designed to catch any wayward semen, although with his penis clamped lightly into position, only the most sputtering ejaculation would go anywhere but directly into the 4-centimetre cylinder aperture.

The man produced a syringe and uncapped the thin 5-centimetre needle. Then he pushed the fine needle directly into Oliver’s left testicle. Oliver flinched.

“Ahh, what are you doing?”

“Growth hormone,” Martyn said as he squeezed half a millilitre of fluid into the testicle.

“Ah, ah, ah, ahh!” Oliver yelled as the fluid forced its way into the tender tissue.

Martyn continued as though the young man’s pain was of no concern to him.

“Makes your balls grow. They’ll double in size every year, hopefully more. Bigger balls means more product. This new formulation is incredible.”

He sounded almost proud, but all Oliver could think about was his deep aching pain, and the enormous balls on the old man he’d seen. He didn’t want his like that.

“Will they ever go back to normal?” he said through gritted teeth, wincing at the pain that filled his left testicle.

“Oh no, once they’ve grown, they can never return to their former size. That’s like asking if an adult can ever go back to the size they were as a child. But in any case, you’re going to be here for a looong time so it won’t matter. Maybe you’ll be the first donor with balls as big as a beach ball?”

He sounded genuinely hopeful, but it was not an image that Oliver liked the sound of. He visualised himself, looking like Jabba the Hutt from Star Wars, sitting on two enormous elephantine nuts so big that his feet could no long reach the floor.

Martyn spiked the second testicle, interrupting Oliver’s thoughts.

“Bigger balls means more powerful orgasms, and more powerful orgasms are more likely to make you trip out, so the time passes easier.”

He forced another half millilitre of growth hormone into the right testicle, heedless of Oliver’s pained protestations.

“All done. The hormone absorbs quickly. The pain will be gone before your first milking at 8. I’ll turn the ejaculator off for now.”

Martyn returned to stand in front of Oliver and he checked the details on the digital identity tag that stood on a small metal post in front and to the side of the teenager. It read M462.

“Okay, you’re all set. Enjoy your day,” he said without sarcasm.

He walked away to attend to the other unwilling residents.

“The injections hurt like fuck don’t they?”

Oliver whipped his head to the side.

“Dad?”

“Yeah son. I’m so fucking sorry to see you here.”

“Me too,” he said, struggling to speak through the pain. “I was looking for you,”

Oliver felt as though he’d just taken a kick to the balls.

“That’s how they got Thomas too. Fucking sick bastards. Look, I know it hurts like crazy now, but it’ll be gone in less than an hour. Longest hour of your life I’m sure, but it will fade.”

“Unnh, yeah,” Oliver grunted. “Sooner the better.”

His father looked older, worn out, a little gaunt.

“You don’t look so good yourself dad.”

“Nah. Cumming 150 times a day tends to do that to you.”

“150? Nobody can squirt than many times! I can only…”

Oliver checked himself, as he realised he was about to reveal details about his masturbation practices.

His dad gave a wry grin.

“Yeah, I know Oli. But it’s different here. They make you horny. All day, every day. It’ll take a while to get you up to speed, but in a year, you’ll be blowing your load every 5 minutes, just like the rest of us, and till then you’ll still be cumming dry. Unless a miracle happens and we somehow get rescued, but William…”

“He’s been here 40 years. I know. Thomas told me.”

“Yeah, sooo… Welcome to the farm, I guess. At least they put us together.”

This time, Oliver stifled a sarcastic response.

For the next 45 minutes, workers bustled among the cattle, feeding them, attending to their ablutions, and ensuring that they were ready for another day. At 7:59, they withdrew.

“Here it comes,” Jason said. “I’m not good with milking. Guess I’ll speak to you tonight boys.”

“Catch you later dad,” Thomas said.

Oliver frowned.

“Dad?”

“Good luck son.”

A few seconds later, there was a deep tingling in Oliver’s testicles. He’d never felt anything like it before, but he immediately felt as though he wanted to nut. If he’d been able to reach his cock, he would undoubtedly have blown his load right then and there. He was shocked at how quickly he could go from nothing, to right on the edge.

The feeling in his balls was accompanied by a similar feeling in his asshole. Before Martyn inserted the electro-ejaculator 50 minutes earlier, Oliver didn’t know that he even HAD a prostate, much less had ever had it stimulated before, and now as a current passed through it, and the softly vibrating head of the ejaculator teased it, he realised it was going to be one of the most important parts of his sexual anatomy. The massage made him feel as though cum was dribbling from his cock, but the feeling was an illusion.

His penis rapidly hardened, and in 20 seconds, it strained as hard as his brother’s. Sometimes, looking at porn, or better yet, an attractive girl, he got almost as hard, but there was always a sense of effort, as though he could feel the root of his cock labouring to engorge itself. But now, it was effortless as the equipment attached to and inserted inside him, bypassed his consciousness, and activated the part of his body that urged his cock to attain maximum hardness.

“Fuck Tom, my dick is so hard right now,” he said, in a tone he hoped was quiet enough for the females opposite not to hear.

“Yeah, mine too.”

Oliver glance askance at the girl opposite, checking that his voice was soft enough. She half-grinned and winked at him, looking directly at his brutally hard cock.

“I bet you could break paving slabs with that thing,” she said playfully.

“She’s just messing with you,” Thomas said. “Ignore her.”

She made a sensuous tongue-licking-her lips gesture. Oliver blushed furiously and looked away.

“Awww, you’re so cute,” she said.

Thomas loudly and pointedly said, “She’ll be panting like a bitch on heat in ten minutes with that dildo in her pussy; guaranteed. She’s no better than you.”

She gave Thomas a look and twisted her head slightly.

“You got me there stud. We’re all gonna be moaning like porn stars trying to win an award soon enough.”

Despite her total disregard for his modesty, Oliver found himself liking her irreverent attitude. They were all naked and being milked together. Even as she joked about his boner, her own clit was being teased, working her pussy to a sloppy mess. He realised there was absolutely no room for embarrassment. They were all just livestock together.

For the first time, he met her gaze without shame, and she gave him a friendly wink back.

“Wh… what’s your name?” he asked. “I’m Oliver, and this is my brother Thomas.”

“Hey Oli!” she said, immediately truncating his name like they were friends. “Hey Tom. I’m Ellie, like the game.”

“Game?”

“You know; Last of Us. Post… Oooh…”

She hesitated.

“That was a good one. Fucking vibrator is hitting me right on the button.”

“You just came?”

“Nah, we don’t cum so often on this side, they keep us right on the edge. Fuckers. Still, could be worse. I can’t imagine what it must me like to blow your a hundred of times a day.”

“Me neither,” Oliver said.

“So come on, since we’re all friends now, what is the most times you came in a day? You had to be jacking off right? Not gonna set that record with a girl.”

Oliver blushed again.

“Uh, erm, well, I… I never really counted.”

“Bullshit! Every dude knows. Come on, don’t shine me. How many times?”

Oliver looked at the females opposite. The middle-aged woman next to Ellie was clearly listening in, but the others were preoccupied by the sensation between their own legs.

“Well, uh, like, maybe 8 times. When school was out.”

“Handjobs huh?”

Oliver squirmed and nodded curtly, once again unable to meet her eye.

She nodded appreciatively.

“Great job kid. That’s impressive.”

He prickled at being called kid. He didn’t think she was much older than he was.

“Did you plan for it, or just horny that day?”

“J… just horny,” he mumbled.

“Then this place is gonna be your idea of heaven.”

The sensation in his balls was overwhelming now, and he could feel the current passing through his prostate, into the root of his dick, and into his nuts. He grimaced, not with pain, but with dismay at how good it felt. He was certain that if he was in his bedroom, he would long since have explosively blown his load, covering his belly and maybe his face with his own juice, yet now he just couldn’t quite cross the line. Something was holding him back. He was unconsciously grinding, air-fucking in slow motion, and it wasn’t as if he wanted to actually blow his stack in public like this, but on the other hand, he’d never wanted to nut so bad…

“Looks like you’re getting close already,” Ellie said.

“Sorry?”

“You’re leaking precum. Lots of it.”

Oli had never made precum in his life. He strained to turn, and looked between his legs. There was a sticky mess of clear fluid dangling from his helmet.

“And you look like you’re straining to hold it back,” Ellie added.

“Don’t worry Oli,” his brother chimed in, “you can’t nut until we all do.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was trying to hold it back, like Ellie said.”

Thomas laughed.

“Oh, good luck with that!”

Oliver realised that the latex band had started rotating around his glans, half a turn one way, then a full rotation back again. It was almost painfully stimulating.

Martyn wandered over and stood nearby, watching Oliver. Almost unbearably distracted by the glans ring, Oliver wondered why. 30 seconds later, the males were all simultaneously triggered.

Oliver felt a jolt of electricity firing pleasantly into his prostate, and a lesser current feeding into both nuts. His pelvis thudded forwards violently as his abdominal muscles, buttocks, and hip flexors contracted aggressively. The claw grip around his lower body and his engorged erection, greatly limited his range of movement, but his body still slammed forwards two inches, and the claw around his cock served as a fist, wanking him as he moved.

The current was not painful, but its effects were irresistible. It faded then fired off, again, and again, initiating a massive orgasm. The testicle contacts made his balls contract hard, driving the cum from them and along his shaft. The skin of his scrotum was pulsating in a fluttering rhythm as the testicles within rapidly tensed and relaxed.

There was no warning. Oliver was kneeling there horny, determined to resist when the moment arrived, then he was cumming like a prison inmate who had not been allowed to touch his dick in a year.

He let out a series of loud “ahhh” groans, as all rational thought was driven from his brain, and he became nothing more than the feelings in his sexual organs and his savagely thrusting loins. He could feel his sphincter mirroring the spasms in his balls, repeatedly contracting on the dildo as though his asshole was trying to bite it off.

His orgasm felt as though it went on forever, and beneath, his cock spat load after load of thick goo into the cylinder.

Martyn watched with professional detachment, ensuring that Oliver was performing without injuring himself.

Splatter after splatter of adolescent cream hit the bottom of the cylinder, and Oliver was transported to a realm of sexual ecstasy beyond his wildest imagining. His mind swirled in a roiling grey void, with white stars firing off like supernovae each time his balls contracted and he squirted again. The electro ejaculator was relentless; merciless; heedless of his ability to keep coming. It forced his body to continue performing for a full minute, before finally returning to its former station-keeping level. Oliver slumped, held up on only by the bench beneath him. He was rendered insensible, his mind continuing to tumble freefall in the place it had soared to, but absent now of the starbursts. Like a man in a sensory deprivation chamber, he floated, aware only of the immense feeling of glowing depletion between his legs.

Eventually a sound penetrated the haze.

“Oli? Oli, can you hear me?”

He forced himself to pay attention to the sound. It was his brother. With effort, his eyes flickered open but he was exhausted.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

He turned to his brother with great effort.

“You okay bro?” Thomas asked.

Oliver didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t hurt but he felt exhausted.

“Fuck me,” he said slurring the words.

“Yeah.”

“I feel like I just blew a year’s worth of jizz.”

“Yeah.”

“Tom, I can’t cum like that again.”

Thomas said nothing.

“Tom, tell me they’re not always gonna be like that.”

Tom hesitated before answering.

“Yeah, pretty much. Now you know why dad’s always tripped out.”

Oliver turned to look at his father. The man was off with the fairies.

“Oh fuck!”

“That was so fucking hot,” Ellie said, staring at Oliver’s still rigid cock.